ponderances on a life consumed by treats

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My mother is a great cook. When I was younger I don’t think I realized how well we ate—the woman made everything from lasagna to chicken pot pie to brisket—and we even got pizza thrown in there every now and again (read: most Friday nights). I finally caught on to her skill and tried to learn from her by studying her methods and recipes, but turns out that wasn’t as simple as it seems because everything is “ungefähr”.

Ungefähr (unga-fare) is German for “approximately”. Which is to say, my mother cooks without strict guidelines and often without measures. A classic tactic of the last generation making it hard for us to learn their tricks.

Enter my mother’s mother’s spaetzle (it’s pronounced a variety of ways…but I think you’re catching on to my German heritage). This is a dish that in all my years had never been made for me, but had been discussed at length. It is a simple mix of egg, flour, and water to create a quick dumpling dough. In my knowledge of spaetzle they are often extruded and take on a thin elongated shape; but not my mother’s mother’s. Atypical to a T.

I watched her bring together the dough just based on her memory of what it should look and feel like. Then I watched her take heaping scoops and drop them in boiling salted water, creating dough puffs that floated to the surface when cooked. Their texture was something at the intersection of matzoh balls and gnocchi; light but chewy and terribly addictive.

We ate them 2 ways. My mother had made a bone broth from beef rib bones that was in itself life altering, but together with the dumpling nuggets we’d made it was on another level. I used some reserved dough to create the spaetzle I had been envisioning, still irregularly shaped but smaller and once boiled I sautéed them with butter and sage until they were a bit crisp on the edges. It’s amazing how the simplest things can sometimes leave the largest impressions.

I am slightly irritated it took this long for my mother to share this non-recipe recipe. But now that I know how it looks and feels and tastes, I am sure I could find a way to throw it together—ungefähr.

*Shout out to Dad—also a cook in his own right: highly proficient in all things breakfast.

Lightly beat the egg at the bottom of a large bowl. Add flour, salt, and half a cup of water and mix together until combined. You want the dough to feel elastic and a bit sticky, so if need be add more water to get a consistency that can be scooped easily (remember, this is a haphazard recipe so trust your gut).

Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil and add a good amount of salt to the water (about a tablespoon). Using a teaspoon, dollop a spoonfuls of dough into the water. If going for bigger dumplings, fill the spoon with dough. If aiming for the skinnier bite-size nuggets, take a small amount on the edge of spoon and coax it off into the water. You can do this in batches.

Once the dough puffs and rises to the water’s surface, use a slotted spoon to transfer them either directly into waiting bone broth preferably littered with bits of cooked carrots and onions for some depth (mom’s way) or into a pan that contains melted, salty butter with a couple of sage leaves floating around (my way). If you’re going for the buttery version, sauté the spaetzle in the butter until the edges have a touch of crispy brownness.

Either version would be heightened with a dusting of grated parmesan cheese and a little sea salt.

Finding creative ways to incorporate vegetables into your diet can be tricky, particularly during the colder months when we crave hibernation food. This is answer. It’s warm. It’s got grains that can trick your mind into thinking you’re having pasta. It has cheese.

Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely love vegetables. It’s just that sometimes the small child inside that fought so hard against the tyranny of peas before cookies and greens before mac and cheese makes me think I don’t want to eat them. So I am often in search of ways to want to eat my vegetables; for preparations that make me excited about them. This is one of those, I promise.

The prep is a bit intensive if you don’t have a food processor. Hand shredding, chopping, and dicing can give you a touch of the carpal tunnel. Take breaks! Drink some wine while you practice those knife skills (or while you watch your food processor whir). But I did and survived, and lived to tell the tale. Luckily this keeps really well, it is definitely a dish that can be made on a Sunday and eaten throughout the week.

So whether you love eating vegetables or have to force them upon yourself, this will stick to your ribs the way a good winter meal should.

Cook quinoa and farro together in a pot, and set aside to cool. Remove casings from chicken sausage (if using), cook and set aside.

Sautee shallots, sweet potato, carrots, cauliflower, and brussel sprouts over medium heat. Once all the vegetables have softened, add spinach, garlic, sage, and thyme; and salt and pepper to taste. Cook together for 5-7 more minutes.

Turn heat to low, and add back in sausage, feta, and cooked quinoa and faro; mix everything together. Taste to see if you want more salt and pepper. Dole out in bowls and top with a drizzle of olive oil. (Also highly recommended: top with sliced or mashed avocado).

Come late August, early September, tomatoes become an endangered species. They are still around, but slowly starting to disappear, reminding you that soon enough the prominent real estate they’ve been holding will be relinquished to the apples and pumpkins of autumn.

But there is still time! Just a couple more weeks to soak up all the delicious sweet and savory tomatoeness. And what better way to do that than by treating them with the utmost reverence?

This is not fancy. Nor is it complex. In fact, it seems likely that a monkey could put this dish together. But that doesn’t make it any less tasty. A great recipe doesn’t always require that you have intensive skill in the kitchen, but should be something you may not have conceived of on your own.

The funny thing about how much I adore making this is that I used to be afraid of mayonnaise. I loved it, I recognized its value and importance in my diet, but alas. It irked me. I couldn’t bring myself to use it. Then someone made me tomato toast–and I was forever changed. I had to be able to make it for myself, because I was craving it constantly. It tasted like summer. So I faced my fears of mayonnaise. And I’ve never looked back.

The moral of this slightly rambling story is that if you too love those late summer tomatoes (and herbs, the herbs in the mayo are important) and just want to savor them as long as possible, this is the dish for you. Ridiculously easy and silly delicious, it is just the way to send these summer delights off in style. Until next summer when they once again grace us with their abundance.

Tomato Toastserves 2

4 slices hearty, thick sliced multigrain bread
1/2 cup good mayonnaise (if you feel daring, make your own, I entrust you to the geniuses at serious eats for that)
1/2 teaspoon each of basil, chives, tarragon, and parsley, diced (or any combination there of that is to your liking)
A bunch of various colored tomatoes, in thick slices (since they come in all shapes and sizes, I leave it to you to determine how much is right. As these photos show, I tend to pile on as many as possible)
Salt and pepper to taste, extra chives for garnish

Like most kids, I was not always a huge fan of eating my vegetables. I have vivid memories of crying shriveled peas that had to be consumed before I was allowed my dino-shaped chicken nuggets, and of stealthily hiding florets of browning boiled broccoli in my hands and then sneaking them into the trash can to gain access to the evenings offering of macaroni and cheese. To my parents’ credit they did try to encourage healthy habits (a success for the most part; as adults my sisters and I are all still of the mind there must be a vegetable somewhere on the dinner table), but clearly I was a bit of a vegetable evasion MacGyver back then.

But those days are behind me. I have evolved. I love vegetables now, particularly in the months of the year when I can get them fresh from farmers’ markets. That has been the true difference. That, and knowing that most vegetables can be utterly transformed into the part of the meal I am most eager to eat with the help of a little love and seasoning. The shriveled, overcooked, and unseasoned veggies-0f-yore are long gone. And good riddance.

This succotash is an ode to what a vegetable dish can and should be. Simple, but tasty. Quick, but memorable. In June corn is sweet and super affordable, and is as delicious raw as it is thrown on a grill. Shelling peas would be a treat but frozen are just as effective. And the zucchini are just starting to appear. All sautéed together quickly in a hot pan of slightly browned butter et voilà, all former fears of vegetables are eradicated. Alongside a little bit of lemon-drenched shrimp and you have a full meal. Just add white wine.

Dice the red onion and zucchini into bite size bits to match the corn kernels and the peas. Over medium heat, melt the butter in a sauté pan until it just begins to brown (it will have a nutty smell and appear golden). Immediately add the zucchini and onion and cook for 5 minutes or until they soften and begin to brown. Add in the corn and peas and cook until just warm, about two minutes. Season with salt and pepper then remove from heat and set aside.

Pat shrimp dry (this will help them brown), and salt and pepper to taste on both sides. Cook over medium-high heat with a bit of olive oil for 2 to 3 minutes on each side, until they are just pink. Turn heat to low and squeeze fresh lemon juice over the shrimp (the heat from the pan my cause some splatter). Stir to coat all the shrimp and pick up the tasty brown bits at the bottom of your pan. (If you’ve got a grill, cooking your shrimp on it instead of on the stove would be a wonderful deviation).

Place shrimp on top of succotash and give an additional hit of lemon, salt and pepper if necessary. If you have fresh herbs, say basil or chives, they would be a great way to add from brightness sprinkled over the dish. Serve immediately.

Before I talk about how wonderful and easy muesli is, let’s start with an introduction to the facts. Bon Appétit put together this extremely eloquent breakdown on the difference between granola and muesli, and I couldn’t hope to say it better. The short of it is this: The two share the same general ingredients; oats, nuts, seeds, dried fruit, etc. But where granola is baked and requires a binder like honey or butter to create its signature chunks, muesli is simply a raw and loose. Both are typically served with milk or yogurt. Not surprisingly granola has long been more popular in America (it tends to be sweeter, so…).

But muesli is overdue for its moment around here. It is so easy to throw together with things from your pantry. It has no added fats or sugars and you just feel healthier when you eat it. Trust me, I’ve done the research.

The secret element here is toasting. Toasting brings out the nuttiness of the nuts, the oatiness of the oats, and the toastiness of the coconut. And like so many things it’s worth making yourself because you can control the proportions of the ingredients. It comes together in a flash–whether done in a big batch in the oven or a quick single portion in a pan on the stove. Throw it over cold Greek yogurt with a little maple syrup or honey and it is brilliant for breakfast or lovely for lunch. Breakfast food for the win. Always.

makeshift museli
You can alter the amount of each ingredient depending on your preferences–and increase or decrease depending on how much you want to make. These proportions will make 4 servings.

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Spread nuts in an even layer on a cookie sheet and toast for 5 minutes. Remove from oven and add oats and coconut to the baking sheet, stirring everything together and return to oven for an additional 3 minutes. Watch closely to avoid burning. Remove from oven, sprinkle mix with a pinch of sea salt, and set aside to cool.

Once cool, add in the dried fruit and stir to combine. Serve over plain Greek yogurt and top with a drizzle of maple syrup and consume. Or swap in flavored yogurt, or honey, or jam. Do you.

If there is one thing you should know about me (if you don’t already), it’s that I adore breakfast. I tend to lean savory–eggs, bacon, toast slathered in butter–but I am also a sucker for the sweets; namely blueberry pancakes and sticky buns.

Another thing to note is that I am a born and bred northerner. Which, among other things, means I was introduced far too late in life to the glory of grits. Those buttery, creamy, cornmeal dream clouds that I understand folks in the south eat quite regularly.

Despite my instant love for them, I was intimidated at the concept of making them myself. Admittedly my frame of reference for cooking up grits at home was having minimal. I think I saw Paula Deen make them once on the Food Network with an entire stick of butter and heavy cream. While I do not shy away from indulgence…even I have limits.

So the internet and I debated on how best to go about making grits that wouldn’t immediately stop my heart. I consulted Ina Garten (obviously because her word is gospel to me), and a few others and came up with a perfect bowl of morning joy. And then when I couldn’t finish them (embarrassing though that is for me to admit) I was gifted a second magical meal by baking them off and adding a little spinach.

Bring the water to a boil. Just before it’s rolling, add salt and the grits slowly. Bring heat down to a low simmer and stir consistently with a wooden spoon until grits thicken (about 5 minutes).

Add the butter and milk and stir to combine. Cover the grits and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes (or until the grits reach your desired thickness…I like mine fairly loose but the longer they cook the more they will firm up).

Remove from heat and stir in the cheese (this also thickens the consistency). Taste for seasoning, add salt and pepper as desired.

FOR BREAKFAST: with poached egg and crumbled bacon highly recommended…but with chives or scallions to garnish or just straight up won’t disappoint.
FOR DINNER: I put the leftovers in a dish and baked them for 20 minutes at 350 degrees, then topped them with sauteed spinach and yet another poached egg. I’m an egg monster.

Few things are as satisfying on a cold October day than a mug of soup. Something that is equally satisfying is finding a way to use the different varieties of squash that came out of your CSA farmshare that have been serving merely as decorative gourds because you didn’t know how to use them all.Whenever I am at the farmers’ market I find myself staring longingly at all the crates of squash, they are just so festive. I am particularly drawn to the miniature ones. Be honest, you are too. So while you’re digging around in the back of your closet for your thick socks and your sweaters, this is the perfect thing to have bubbling away on the stove.

Butternut squash soup is easy and a standby once fall comes around, but every now and again it needs a reboot to keep things exciting. The delicata and buttercup squash add other flavor dimensions, roasting them brings out their sweetness, and generally I am a sucker for anything with pumpkin pie spice — and it really just makes this soup that much better. You can use other squash varieties (like sugar pumpkin which would fit perfectly in this crew), these are just what I had on hand.

I had considered getting ambitious and caramelizing some roasted pumpkin seeds to put on top, but lost steam and got hungry so I ate it with a hunk of baguette instead (a choice I don’t regret). I encourage you to eat it however you see fit.

Set oven at 350 degrees. Slice each squash down the middle lengthwise and remove the seeds. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper, then place on a parchment paper lined baking sheet flesh-side-down and bake for 30 minutes or until fork tender.

Let the squash cool and using a spoon scrape out the flesh from the skins and set aside.

In a large heavy bottom pot over medium heat, melt butter and sauté the onions until soft and translucent. Add in the spices, herbs, and squash, salt, and pepper. Cook for 2 minutes. Add in the cider and stock, cover, turn down the heat to medium low, and let simmer for 20 minutes stirring occasionally.

If after 20 minutes everything is softened (if not, give it 5 more minutes or so), remove from the heat and blend (either with a hand blender or transfer the mix in batches to a traditional blender). Return to pot and stir in the cream. Test the flavor for seasoning, adding more spice, salt, and pepper if needed.

Stir spices into the yogurt and serve a healthy dollop on top of each cup of soup with an additional dusting of spice.